Opening a dusty book
by RchHghr
Summary: Brin gets Zack to open up, even if its just for a moment.


The winter air against her skin made her feel alright in the quiet city of Chicago as she pulled off the curb in her "new" car, and into the point she told Zack that she would meet him at. She wasn't feeling well again, and the last time she didn't feel well she contacted him immediately, and he was there to "watch out" for her. She didn't need him there, but instead she wanted him there to watch out for her because she couldn't do so otherwise. Her body had become so weak then, and she could hardly move. It was so bad he once found her in the shower curled up unable to move. The tap was long gone with warm water, and her body was wracked with the shakes, but she reassured him that the cold made it the least bit better.

This time she was going to be with him for five days; that was what he allowed them to stick together. Just any of the two together could compromise anything. Lydecker's men were everywhere and they were watching for even the slightest bit of out of the ordinarily. They caught on pretty fast and were on the come just for their chance to shine in Lydecker's eyes. Lydecker just wanted "his children" back. Only, none of them wanted to come back.

Pulling to the corner she turned off the car and leaned her head back against the seat. She was feeling the wracks her body would soon produce. It was starting now. It hadn't happened in a while, but it was starting to happen more and more frequently. It was like a cold, or a flu. She felt like shit for a few days then everything was hunky-dory and she was on her way like nothing happened.

Brin held her hands to the steering wheel and closed her eyes. She was early. She told him to meet her there at eight-forty five. Zack was always early, and, or very punctual, but it was only seven after eight.

When Zack came he was going to drive. She just couldn't do it. He liked to drive anyways, and often times he was the one who "claimed" he was driving. Whenever he scored a hot ride, it was hands off his wheel.

She Opened her eyes to the roar of a speeding pick-up truck smoking and swerving in her rear view mirror. No time to react the trucks smashed her driver's door denting it in, and making her smack her forehead straight into the windshield.

The driver drove off knocking the street sign of King and Flower, and turning up the street where he was still speeding.

"Shit," she shouted with the world whirrling around her, and the hot sticky mess of blood slowly dripping down her forehead. She couldn't focus as voices sounded, and lights shined in. She couldn't move for a moment, and her body gave no time away in shaking from the core outward. It was something that just couldn't wait.

Against the pain, and the people who were gathering around her she reached into her pocket and pulled out two Triptophan pills and swallowed them dry in her mouth.

They were not in a bottle because she was moving around so much, and with only five left she just stuffed them into the pocket of her coat.

Suddenly somebody was way too close, and she wasn't ready to fight. Then also she wasn't armed, so she was at a big disadvantage. She would have to use whatever strength she had left. But a fist through the driver's side window, and her name shouted loudly she knew it was Zack, and he looked beyond angry; he was pissed. His eyes were flashing deeply dark, and his mouth was beyond his everlasting frown.

"Brin," he shouted again when she didn't open her eyes, and she quickly did so looking past his anger, and seeing the concern he never tried to show.

She nodded her head sharply, and flashed him a sign to show him that he shouldn't show so much concern here.

Someone, either close or very hard, she couldn't tell as her mind adjusted to what just happen shouted, "The dude is parked not to far away. He got out of the car, and went upstairs."

That wasn't something to say in front of "Big Brother." Revenge showed across his face, and suddenly, in the blink of an eye to the ones around her he took off to get the guy for hurting someone he truly cared about.

"Zack," she shouted even though it was way too late and pointless. He probably already pummled the guy to a bloody pulp. Knowing Zack he would kick anybody's ass who would even look the wrong way at him. But for family he would do anything to protect them. Brin knew that, and that was because he never let any of them down. He may always be annoying, and never any fun, but if anyone needed help her was there, or if he needed backup someone was there to help the one in need.

She had to stop him. He could sure go off somebody pretty well, but if she didn't calm his anger he would be seeing red for a long time.

Someone said something through the broken door window, and she only caught 'ambulence.' Everything else was ignored and tuned out.

To outcries from the three guys and a girl next to the car she tried the door, but being so dented in so much it wouldn't budge. And with worst coming to worst she had no other choice. A deep breath in she punched through the windshield shattering glass all over herself and the interior. With cat like grace she lifted herself out and jumped to the ground taking off in the opposed direction without even breaking her steps or pace.

She turned the corner to see a very heavy crowd of people which were all surrounding Zack as he held the guy, presumably the driver held up by his colar. The threats and swears coming from Zack's mouth made the mother's around scowl, and try to hide this from their children.

She put her hood on, to hide the "junkie" effect she was giving off, and pushed through the crowd, and right up to Zack.

"Zack," she called trying to calm him out of his anger. The guys closest to him tried to calm him down.

He heard them, and he nodded his head letting the guy down slowly. Then suddenly out of nowhere he punched the guy straight across the face with his bloody hand from smashing her window before.

He let the guy slink to the group and stood there over him as if he wanted to do something more. He was still seeing red, and the muscles in his face still haven't relaxed. Even thou the sound of police in the distance sounded as a sign to them all, the time to bounce he stood there.

"Let's go," she grabbed his hand and pulled. With her touch, he tightened the grip for a moment before she let go and they took off from the scene knocking everyone who tried to get in their way.

The easy sailing went smoothly for one block before they were surrounded by cops, and armored bullet-proof men with guns. They thought they were the crooks for they told them if they didn't get on the ground they would shoot.

A nodded was all she needed and they both took into action with a side kick to the two on the side, and a quick dodge of the other two who were going to fire without command. The last one standing was suddenly out with a bloody fist to his nose.

The men were out, and they were soon to follow. A very "kind" gentleman fell asleep with his keys in the engine which became theirs, and they were out of there.

They were out of there in the squeal of tires. The speed he was putting on was not to put miles between them, and her accident, but that was not the reason. He was still seeing red. It was like he didn't even notice that she was in the car. His face was grave, and he never lost focus on his driving.

She put her seatbelt on. Zack's driving wasn't all that in the first place. Now with him going seventy miles of the freeway

In honest truth it was starting to scare her. He seemed really mad, and the situation was long gome out of the picture.

"Zack," she said too loud to go unnoticed, "You're out of control."

He blinked and looked at her, and the mood lightened strongly when his eyes lingered on the wound on her forehead, and then to her eyes.

"We'll stop at a safehouse," he said, voice low and cold like it normally was.

She nodded, and was relieved when the speed went down to fourty-five and he turned on the heat system, and she turned on the radio, which was on some talk radio. The topic was about looting in North Carolina.

Boring.

She turned the station onto music, and was relieved to hear something relaxing and quiet. A familiar song as well she sang quietedly to herself as by the corner watchful eye of Zack she took off her jacket and riped the sleeves off her shirt. One she used to wrap around the wound on her forehead. She pulled her hair out of its braid and let it hang down to pull the look off of a headband. The pain it ventured made it feel worse than it looked, and it looked horrible.

But she had to move on. The second sleeve she had wasn't going to be used for herself. Seeing that they pulled up to a red light she grabbed his messed up hand and wrapped it around his knuckles as tightly as she could. He started to continue on, and she finished wrapping it. It was crued and the blood from her hand as well as his stained the bandage it still made the flow lessen in his hand and make it easier for him to drive.

She took a scrap off the bottom of her shirt and used it for her own hand. With that finished she put her coat back on, and turned down the window completely.

The heat started to bother her, and she turned it off. Zack gave her a look.

"Aren't you cold?" he questioned after observing her obvious fleet to take care of their wounds without the proper supply.

"It's too hot in here," she said looking out the window to the dirt road they were driving on. A passing playground caught her attention, and the cold winter's night air would feel just great on her skin.

"Zack, stop," she said.

"Why?" he questioned stopping anyways. He cut the engine and looked at the piece of her shirt on his knuckles.

"Let's go sit on the swings," she said opening the door and getting out. She let the air hit her for a moment, and zipped up her coat tighter to herself. She smiled when Zack got out, and joined her as she walked over to the castle impersonation with six swings and a tire swing.

The farthest swing from the car was where she parked herself, and kicked off the ground lightly swaying back and forth. He had no choice but to follow. He didn't sit on the swings though, instead he stood behind her and held high to the chains to keep her swinging slow.

"Why are we here?" he questioned. He removed one hand and pulled the zipper to his coat up and then held tight.

"I need air for my head. I feel kinda fuzzy, and besides nobody is here so I won't go noticed. I doubt anybody is out looking for the girl in the hit and run accident. It's a level off their head, so c'mon push me." She rattled the chains, and looked behind and up at him.

He wasn't going to win the battle of disappearing at the moment, so he sucked at his teeth, and stepped back. Pulling the bottom he let it go for her to swing, and continued on their by pushing her back.

The icy air pushing at her face made her feel 'better' in the least bit, and even though her head pounded where she hit it she didn't want to leave. She was a soldier so she could withstand leaving it to be taken care of later when she was ready to leave.

"Your wounds could get infected," he said as if reading her thoughts.

She shook her head, but a nagging feelign was there to take away from the talk about her, and to focus on him. She slowed herself. Something was bothering her. She knew Zack as much as the others did. She knew him her whole entire life, and knew of his attitude and bitterness he felt towards emotions and sentimental things, but the way he looked in the car, and the focus gazed of bitter revenge had to be something more.

Zack stopped the swing as she skitted to a hault.

Brin got off stuffing her hands into her sleeves. Now wasn't feeling as good as it was before, but she wasn't going to let on to Zack.

She took her hands out of her sleeves and headed to the long ranged monkey bars she pulled onto the first one, and simply glided across until she was on the last one which she pulled herself through and sat down patting the bar next to her for him to join her.

"Join me," she said above a whisper.

He did, but he didn't do a speculation like she did, but went directly over to her and lifted himself up. He sat a foot away from her, his breath visable in the night's air.

"Can I ask you something, with the promise you won't shut me out, and answer like it is none of my business because I feel concern, and since you frown on that I want to know for my own selfish reasons, so will you spare me talk?" Her breath shown in the night air as well.

Zack looked at her suspiciously, but cocked his jaw and nodded.

He always had that same look on his face. One day, if not already his faced would stay like that.

"Back in the car you had this focus, like your eyes were so gazed over you didn't know I was in the car, and you looked so full of anger it looked like hurt. You don't show hurt, but I know behind the anger there is hurt. We all hurt, but you showed something different. It looked like it affected you in some way that was different. I know your fascade, so I want to know what was going to through your mind."

His face remained blank, until he looked down, then back up at her pushed forward just a little bit. He spoke for only her ears, even though there was nobody in the close radius. He said, "You give me the most grieve. I worry about you because of your condition. You are always sick and contact me more than any of the others. But that wasn't running through my mind. It was supposed to be routine tonight, until that bastard rammed his car into you." He paused and leaned in much closer now, "Seeing you with your eyes closed and head back against the seat I saw the day Eva was killed, and the look upon her face when she went down."

He showed no sad emotions, but remained like stone. Just once she wished one of them would knock down his walls, make him feel something, anything besides anger and disdain for anything the lot of them did. She'd managed to make him talk but besides his seeing the memory of the death of Eva he saw fear for the lost of one of them. Even though she knew he wanted to move on, she had to get one thing clear before she changed the subject in his haste.

"The only way I will go down is with a fight," she said grabbing his hand. Against his protests she held it, and looked down at her legs which she swung.

"Can't say the same for Tinga; bringing you to a hospital, what the hell was she thinkin'?" He was refering to the memory of when Tinga was thirteen and Brin was eleven, and wasn't feeling well. Tinga paniced when Brin felt like her body was constricting and thought the only way to help it was to take her to a hospital. At the hospital they found it hard to asnwer why they both were shaking, and managed hospital security on their tail. It didn't end pretty, and Zack would never forget because that was when he tracked down Tinga, because he had already had contact with Brin.

Brin laughed at the thought of it because it wasn't funny, but because they were not using their head, and were scolded by Zack like he was their mother or father; it was his choice to decide which he wanted to be for that one.

"Do you think Syl made it to Connecticut yet?" she questioned Zack.

"How do you know she's headed there?" he questioned his suspicion returning like the first question she had asked him.

She shrugged with a smile on her face. Gossip spread; well contact with Tinga told her that Syl and Krit were having one of their fun competitions again. Instead of drinking themselves into a stupor they were having a cross-country trip; race. Starting in Las Vegas Nevada they were racing across country to get to what used to be Bridgeport Connecticut; now just a ghetto to the desperate in search of a place to live at. She could picture her now, like a little girl screaming while being chased in a game of hide-and-seek.

He gave off a low moan in the back of his throat and looked out into the night. She looked out as well. A sharp pain in her forehead brought her back and she sucked in a breath as her vision blurred and she pasted out right there in front of her.

-

-

She opened her eyes to find that she was not at the playground anymore, but in a room with the shades drawn tight and the air warm with comfort. She was also lying on comfort which was a couch with the thickest of cushions. A blanket was thrown over her. With her left hand, her 'fine' hand she felt her forehead to find that it was wrapped around with her hair hanging down all around it. It felt fine and so did her headache which was gone. Without her jacket, and only in her tank and jeans she felt great. It was like she hadn't felt awful before.

Here other hand was held losely in Zack's grip. Asleep against the couch his head was resting comfortably, and he was snoring lightly. Her bad hand, the one he was holding as well as his were wrapped with experties.

The corners of her mouth twitched up and she clutched onto his hand tighter. He held a little firmer, but kept his eyes closed.

Brin looked past him to the very knicked but sturdy table where a bottle of vodka was opened and half a green plastic cup was filled.

Half the bottle was gone.

"How do you feel, honestly," he asked sitting up now. She knew he wouldn't let go of her hand until she did. He couldn't show emotion, but he knew how long to stay close, or afar against the others judgement.

"At the moment I feel fine actually. Usually it takes me a few days to overcome, but maybe I'm just going through a easy patch before I go through a rough patch." She let go of his hand and curled up, only to roll to face the back of the couch and let her limbs stretch out like a cat into a long relaxed stretch. Inhaling she felt a great stretch.

Zack got up and disapeared into the next room.

Where were they? She hoped they weren't in a stolen home. They could walk in and expose the two of them, even though they would be gone before they realized what they saw.

She grabbed the bottle of vodka off the table and took a sip. It burned all the way down.

Zack came back into the room in a pair of pajama pants and a black t-shirt.

"What time is it?"

"Almost midnight," he answered.

"Only that?" She said; which she thought it was later. She didn't feel tired at the moment, but really didn't want to do much.

Zack sat in front of her on the floor. She messed with his shaggy hair.

"Stop," he said abrutely. He was very paranoid about anyone getting way too close to his barcode.

But she wasn't after that. She wanted to cut his hair. It was way too long and shaggy. Plus, she had enjoyed her short-lived job as a hairstylist at a salon which paid good. Brin could've continued to work there and make good money but one guy always tried to grope her and she got tired of him trying, and trying to get the other girls so she knocked some sense into his brain and conciousness, which ended her job there. When the police came she bounced to never look back.

"Let me cut your hair," she offered moving a bit closer up the seat. She flopped the blanket over herself so it was hanging around her.

"Why do you always want to cut my hair? I may like it just this way," he pushed a hand through the oily mess knowing full well that he wasn't going to win this battle.

"Will it keep you happy for the rest of the night?"

She nodded, and he leaned back. She took the knife from her pocket and made due.

He turned on the television and flipped through the channels.

Between the two of them the cup was gone and only one-fourth of the bottle remained.

Her finished product looked presentable to her.

He didn't pay too much attention to her, but more on the television. Halfway through her cutting he mumbled something about looking like a clown, and that was pretty much all the conversation for a while.

He wasn't one for conversations or any engagements which they fonded over. He lived in his own little world where his priority was to protect them all, and getting the ones "closest" (understatement) to the others, to come to the rescue. They were family, and it was them against Manticore. They just hoped that they could continue to win.

-

That's it, what'd you think? Let me know.


End file.
